the youth
by the moonlight mona lisa
Summary: '"i guess i was wrong," she says, angrily, "you haven't changed at all." and he hasn't. not really.' — dan-centric, post mechtanium surge.


**based off a personal headcanon i have, because i refuse to believe that dan came out of the whole destruction of bakugan city thing without some form of ptsd. so i guess he's kinda ooc? personally i don't feel he is, but then it's 6am and i've been up all night and i really want a bagel so that might just be me.**

 **also, i apologize if this is choppy or bad, this is the first thing i've written in a long while, and it's pretty long, actually.**

 **inspired by the song "the youth" by mgmt, which makes me think of dan for some reason.**

* * *

 **the youth**

 **...**

 **(are you starting to change?)**

...

The sun beats down, waves of heat raining on him. He's been at sea for a while, maybe too long, because his thoughts are clouded with things he would've deemed silly a year ago.

But maybe it's not the sun. Maybe it's his thoughts, burning so hard that they have imprinted into his skin from the inside.

Something feels so very different, but he can't be sure what it is. kids are playing, running, battling, and it's so weird to think that six years ago, kids didn't do that. Most kids were scared of losing their precious, otherworldly friends to a dark dimension.

Kids are starting to have fun again. There's no need to be scared anymore. And he feels so much older.

The hero of the world - he's been the hero for six long years - is growing up. The world doesn't need him anymore, doesn't need him to journey and defeat evil.

It's a weird feeling, really, and he should be used to it by now. He's been travelling with Drago for half a year now, so he's seen plenty of happy places, but this is the first day that he's really sat down to think about how much has changed.

He should be happy, really, that kids are happy, that they can battle and run and play without fear, that his duties are done, that he can adventure without having to cut a corner and save someone, but he doesn't feel happy.

Not really.

* * *

 _You've saved the world multiple times, Dan. It's only natural that you'd feel incomplete with the world not needing to be saved anymore. Didn't you feel this way after the first time, too?_

Runo's words ring loud and clear in his head. It's nice to hear them, to hear her understand his feelings, to let him know that his feelings are justified and make sense.

(It's a miracle that he even got her to talk to him again. When he first tried to call her, she didn't answer. She didn't answer for a long time, until she finally did, and waited for Dan to apologize before she said anything. She had dealt with him and his lack of apologies for a long time, and she didn't know if she felt like dealing with it anymore.)

But even if she understands why he feels this way, she doesn't _understand_ understand.

Not really.

* * *

He misses home. He misses his friends, his parents, the random kids who ride bikes each Saturday and Sunday mornings.

He wonders if they'll ride their bikes on more mornings now that the world isn't in total danger. He wonders if the kids will stop riding their bikes altogether, now that they're older, now that they might think they're "too old" for such things.

They're probably not kids anymore, anyway.

Not really.

* * *

He calls Mira. Ace picks up.

Dan talks to him about the kids riding their bikes, how he misses people, how Runo hasn't told him to come home (his mom is the only one who still asks him to, and eventually, Dan knows she'll stop, too), and how the world is too safe - what will happen if he loses everyone to another disaster?

Ace offers no sympathy for Dan's out of character attitude - "deal with your crap, dude, and go home." - and then hangs up the phone.

Maybe Ace has a point. Dan has been putting off his problems; he _knows_ why he's not happy - the world doesn't need him anymore - and he _also_ knows why he focuses on the kids he sees playing.

They have their childhoods, their whole lives ahead of them. everyone he loved could've been _dead_ and these kids play without even knowing, just go on with their blissful playground games.

He's glad they don't know, but looking at them makes him realize that he went on this adventure to soothe not only his need for adventure, but also because he was scared. Scared of losing the people around him.

He already lost them once.

* * *

Once a year goes by, Drago tells him his honest opinion; go home, and stop living in fear of losing people, being away from them, not knowing how they are and worrying yourself into a fit of anxiety will not help you. It only makes things worse.

"You can't go a month without calling one of them, Dan. It's time to go home."

"A year ago, I wouldn't have done that!" he argues, because isn't that a good thing?

"Exactly. You're changing, Dan."

Dan lets out an angry sigh. "But I'm changing in a good way!"

Even if he can't really express emotions in this form, Dan knows that Drago is narrowing his eyes and frowning at him. But he also knows that this lecture is Drago's way of expressing his concerns.

"No, you're not." he starts, "You're letting worry and anxiety change you, and that's _not_ a good thing."

Dan says nothing in reply. he knows Drago's right, and this change in him also makes him admit defeat.

He's almost angry at that.

Almost.

* * *

Three more months roll by, and Dan has started to head towards home. It's time to go home.

It's _been_ time.

"But are you sure?" Runo asks him, during one of their monthly calls, "You seemed so set on having the adventure of your life!"

It's nice to know that Runo wants him to be happy and adventure if that's what he really wants - that she supports him, even if she was hurt and angered by his sudden need to travel.

"I did," he tells her, and he means it - there have been so many changes in him, so many realizations, and he knows now what the whole reason behind his traveling was. So he's satisfied.

"What's wrong, Dan?" she asks, more to herself than to him, "You seem so different."

He doesn't know what to tell her - she doesn't like this change, and neither does Drago, and if he's being honest, Dan doesn't really like it, either. He misses the days where he could live off his sunny demeanor, his large amounts of energy that he pulled out of nowhere, but he's been so tired, the worry and the anxiety eating him alive.

It's not a bad thing, the worrying. Really, he's glad that he's doing more of it than he used to. Because it's a good thing to love people, to be attached to them, But he knows that the amount of worrying he's been doing isn't healthy. He's not even twenty yet and he's become paler, skin and bones despite the amount he eats (that appetite hasn't gone anywhere). He knows that something is wrong.

"I'm okay," he says, "Just a little tired."

* * *

Three months later, he's finally home.

Being home is weird. Being back around the people he had spent almost a year and a half worrying about is weird. The worrying about them seems plain silly, at first, because they're all okay - even the others back on their own planets - but Dan knows that his problems are rooted deeper than that.

But later in the night, when everyone has gone from his welcome back party, he goes to Runo, unsure of what to say to her. It seems that she feels the same way, wringing her hands over top of her skirt.

Instead of saying anything, Dan falls limply into her arms, and she doesn't know what to do, only knows that she's comforting him.

"What happened to you out there, Dan?"

He doesn't know how to tell her, but he knows where to begin, so he starts there.

Unlike Ace, who had nothing but the apathy that Dan had needed at the time (and apathy is, after all, Ace's own brand of sympathy), Runo offers sympathy in her own way - understanding, and a gentle comfort pressed into his body.

* * *

The problem won't go away. Dan knows that. But he can work with it. It's not strange to come out of such an ordeal with a battle scar or two, whether it be emotional or physical (although Dan has a few of those, too).

The kids around him got happier with the lack of problems in the world. So why can't Dan do the same?

He grows back into his old habits, into the way he's supposed to be, and starts trying to heal the scar.

Pushing Runo's buttons is an unproductive start. But it's still a start, and it's the only one he truly feels he can do without feeling strange.

"I guess I was wrong," she says, angrily, "You haven't changed at all."

And he hasn't.

Not really.

 **...**

 **(wave your hands, make it rain, the stars will rise again)**

 **...**

 **end**


End file.
